[TWIG] Chapter 12/14: Lighthouse in the storm

[terresdebrume]

TITLE: The way it goes
FANDOM: Marvel’s MCU
SERIES: Standing on tiptoes (1/3)
RATING: Teen and Up
PAIRING(S): FrostIron
CHARACTER(S): Loki, Tony Stark, Thor, Odin, Frigga, Farbauti, Laufey, cameos by multiple others.
GENRE: Alternate Universe (Ballet)
TRIGGER WARNING(S): None, although there is some mildly explicit description of violence in the first few chapters.
SUMMARY: Loki is a ballet dancer juggling between two (or three, or possibly four) different lives. Tony Stark is an engineer's son who goes into theatric props to piss his father off. Then they meet, and worlds collide.

STANDING ON TIPTOES ON LJ: [Series masterpost] Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11,


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Tony

He doesn’t leave the hotel for the next three weeks.

Well, obviously he goes to work, both at the company and at the theater, but he keeps to himself in both places, strictly respecting his hours and making sure not to make any more eye contact than absolutely necessary.

Loki doesn’t come.

He hears Darcy talk about him, several times. He knows when his stitches are removed, and when his ribs are deemed good enough that he can start dancing again, but he never sees him himself.

Tony tries to move on. He buys himself a penthouse closer to the artists’ town, among the theaters and cinemas, because he can and he finds himself liking the idea. He signs papers too, a lot of it, because Loki isn’t the only one who wanted to break off with his life after the restaurant, and he likes theatrical props enough that he thinks he can spend the rest of his life creating machinery for them. Of course, that means accepting that he will probably have to live like the regular rich guy for a few months or years, instead of the usual billionaire lifestyle, but he’s pretty sure he can survive it without problem. He decides to get Pepper to work for his new enterprise, and feels kind of surprised when she says yes. Apparently, working as a barista in a coffee shop wasn’t really her thing.

Which is how a month later, Tony comes back to the theater as a new business man with –finally- his own place to live in, to find the stage horribly silent, save the sounds of someone sobbing.
Tony frowns, instruct Jarvis to sit by the door, and walks to the center of the stage, where Loki is hugging the giant blonde that Tony identifies as his brother.

“Thank you,” the blonde says after a while, wiping tears from his eyes. “I should let you go back to work now….” His voice trails off, like there is something he wants to say but doesn’t dare to.

There is silence for a couple of seconds, and then Loki sighs and says:

“I’ll come see you and Jane later this week. Get some rest, brother.”

The change in the other man’s face is so intense, Tony almost feels like smiling. Then the blonde leaves, and Loki’s face closes as soon as the door clicks shut. He takes a deep breath and rubs his hands against his upper arms, in a gesture that is maybe supposed to be comforting, or maybe to warm him up. Either way, he looks better than he did last time Tony saw him, more alive, even if his cheeks have hollowed out.

Loki turns to the side of the stage and addresses Coulson:

“I’m sorry, I don’t think….”

“It’s okay,” Phil says. “Everybody go home, you get a free night, but I want everyone back in working shape tomorrow. We don’t have time for more, Loki.”

Loki nods, and Tony waits until most of the dancers have left the room to go where their star is gathering his belongings, Fenris’ head occasionally nudging at his knees.

“Loki,” he starts, unsure of his welcome.

“Go away,” Loki says, and Tony sees a hand flash toward his face, the glistening of tears lingering on his wrist afterward.

“Loki, what happened?” Tony asks, because even if it took him a month to get his shit together and sort this out in his own head, he know what he want now, and he’s not about to let it go without at least trying.

“Go away Stark,” Loki says, and Tony flinches because of it. Loki stopped using his family name a while ago, now, or so Tony thought. “I don’t want to deal with you now I just—fuck!”

Tony sees him rub at his eyes as his voice cracks on the last word, and it’s like breaking a dam open, something that comes out as a quiet but sharp breath in, the discreet sound of a sniffle.

“Hey, Laufeyson,” another dancer –Barton, Tony thinks- asks from the other side of the stage, “You gonna be okay?” And it’s Tony who turns to call out:

“Yeah, don’t worry, I got him.”

The man doesn’t look all that convinced, and Tony can’t really blame him for that, but somehow he gets the feeling that Barton’s help would be even less welcomed than his, so he nods toward the door, and the man leaves.

“What happened?” Tony repeats, rubbing over Loki’s back. “Look, I know I’ve been AWOL for the past month, and I’m sorry about that I—I needed to do some thinking, and I don’t think I could have helped you at the same time. But I’m here now, and I’d like to help so….”

“I told him I hated him,” Loki says, so quiet and broken Tony almost misses it. “I told him I hated him, and now he’s dead and he’ll never know I lied.”

Thor

Frigga is here when he pushes the door to the apartment he plans to leave soon.

He would have moved in with Jane anyway, but he can’t bear to stay in here anymore now that all it does is remind him how much he screwed up as a brother and as a human being lately. Jane tells him he didn’t mean to, tells him he’s a good guy, and maybe she’s right.

It doesn’t make him feel any better though.

Frigga is sitting on the table that used to support Jörmungandr’s vivarium, and Thor feels a brief flash of anger at her, as though he had any right to judge her. (Yet he does. Oh, he does judge her so much.) She rises to meet him and he turns to avoid her hug, avoid the sight of her eyes filling with tears.

He knows –he starts to understand- that Odin probably has the heaviest responsibility in this situation –at least, this is what he needs to believe to keep going- but he knows that Frigga followed him, too. And yes, Odin is dead and Frigga has always been gentle and caring to both her sons, but Thor still resents her.

“When are you going to stop trying to make me pay for this?” Frigga asks, her voice strong despite her obvious pain.

“When you start apologizing,” Thor says, and it comes out harsher than he intended.

“Thor, we talked about this, your father….”

“My father was your husband, not your master,” Thor spits, and it’s venomous, aimed to hurt, aimed to make her feel as bad as he does over what they did to Loki. “I have seen you defy him on many a subject, I have seen you stop talking to him for days over his hours of work, over the way he tried to make our home, and yet nothing ever transpired about how he treated Loki!”

Thor rakes his hands through his hair, tries to convince himself to stay calm, to rationalize the situation, but he can’t.

He can’t because he knows he’s been horrible to Loki. He can’t because he never meant to be anything but an ally to his brother. He can’t because he doesn’t care that Loki was adopted, but every time he revisits their childhood, it sounds as though he considered Loki less than a brother even before he knew they didn’t share blood. He can’t because Odin never told them that, because he had double standards and Thor took advantage of them, seeing but not understanding. He can’t because Odin lived a life that was the opposite of what he preached and he lied. He can’t because Odin was cruel to Loki one too many times and it finally made their situation explode, leaving Thor with his world turned upside down, and the impression that he spent all his life destroying the person he loves above any other in his family, and nobody looked or cared enough to warn him against it.

He can’t calm down because Odin created this mess and he is dead, and Thor has no one to demand answers from.

He can’t, because he doesn’t know who he hates most between his parents and himself.

“You are a strong woman,” Thor says. “You have taught me to be always proud and straight and to fight for what I wanted. You failed to fight for that,” he adds bitterly, “For Loki’s equality and his well being.”

“So you’re going to just leave me alone then?” Frigga shouts at him, her face red and her eyes shining with tears. “You’re going to leave me to mourn alone? Are you truly going to abandon your mother while she suffers?”

“I SUFFER TOO!” Thor explodes. “DO YOU THINK I DO NOT? DO YOU THINK LOKI DOESN’T SUFFER? WE. ARE ALL. SUFFERING. WE’RE ALL PAYING THE PRICE OF YOUR LIES, OF FATHER’S HYPOCRISY AND OF MY STUPIDITY! DO YOU THINK I KNOW NOT OF IT? DO YOU THINK I DON’T MOURN FOR HIM?” He realizes, dimly, that he is crying by now, voice raw and broken, throat tighter than his fists. “WE ALL HAVE A PART IN THIS! ALL THE FOUR OF US, AND WE ALL SUFFER FOR AND FROM IT! I AM TRYING TO RIGHT WHATEVER IT IS I CAN RIGHT,” Thor adds, his voice hoarse and his breathing heavy. “I AM TRYING TO SHOW LOKI THAT I WILL NOT WASTE A SECOND CHANCE IF HE CHOSES TO GIFT IT TO ME!”

Frigga is still straight backed on her seat, refusing to yield even now that it may cost her both her sons. At this moment, Thor cannot think of anyone who would have been a better match for his father, for she is strong even in her tears, dignified in her grief and elegant even in her anger.

Truly, Frigga was the only possible option for Odin.

“I am doing whatever I can to get my brother back,” Thor says, low and bitter, and intentionally cruel for the first time in his life. “Now it’s your turn to learn how to grovel.”

Loki

Even through his tears, Loki manages to sit on the edge of the scene without falling or damage his costume, which consists of ordinary pearl-grey tights with black boots figuring the legs… but Tony’s strokes of genius lies in the shirt.

It looks frilly, made of a hundred and some curls of white fabric that make it look like Loki’s feathers are ruffled with excitation, or possibly passion. Then, when he turns from white to black swan, Loki presses a button at the bottom of the hidden zipper, and the thin threads of cable come lose, revealing the black underside, and allowing for him to ‘change’ onstage, in front of the spectators, which coincides marvelously with the revisited choreography.

Loki isn’t about to admit it to anyone, but to wear this to have it under his fingers and close to his hands for a few weeks now, has been his best source of comfort in a long time, like a plush toy or a friend. Sometimes, while wearing his costume, he imagined Tony was standing in the room and watching him dance.

He could never imagine his reaction.

Still, now he knows Odin is dead, and he knows Thor wants to make things right, and he knows Tony wants to help… he has no idea what he feels about all of this. It seems he is able to feel everything and nothing at the same time, like watching a thunderstorm from behind the windows, and he is afraid of this.

He is afraid that he will get things wrong, afraid that he will mess up. For the first time in his life, it seems to him that every matter is in his own hands, that he must only make a choice instead of struggling for the leavings others deign give him. This is what he has been looking for all his life, really. The freedom, the responsibility, the trust; he has never wanted anything else. To be treated as an equal, as someone whose opinion matters.

Now that he is, he isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confesses. “I feel like my head is going to explode and you—you….”

You weren’t there, he wants to say. You weren’t there when I wanted you to be. The thought, somehow, feels too big.

He thought he needed Tony. He thought he needed the warmth he provided and the comfort of his friendship. He thought he needed the understanding, the unexpected but unconditional support. He thought he needed all this and more, he thought he needed everything Tony had to offer and beyond, but the truth is a lot scarier than that.

Truly, Loki had all he needed this past month. He had a place to live in and a family to support him. He had a roommate who was truly there for him –and he needs to thank Ivan for his help, really. He had Raven, who endured three more hours of her step family every Sunday for a month just so he could escape his own life. He had Erik, who offered to go with him when he visited Odin despite his hatred of hospital, and he had Charles -Erik’s boyfriend and Raven’s brother- who, once he’d calmed down from finding out who he was, offered all the help he could give –and coming from a psychologist, that meant a lot. He had Darcy, too, who got their colleagues to throw him a party when he came back, and even Coulson and Barton, who took it upon themselves to make sure he spent as little time alone as possible. He even had Thor who, although he still has a lot of things to correct, apologized, and truly that was all Loki needed him to do.

Loki, he comes to realize, doesn’t need Tony. He is perfectly able to survive without him, he is perfectly able to function without him. Yet, he finds himself not wanting to, and the idea means so much that it brings tears to his eyes again, which he forces himself to blink back.

He can’t do this while crying. He can’t.

“What do you want?” he asks, and Tony’s brow furrows again.

“I want to help,” he says. Then, when Loki doesn’t answer, he continues: “I want to be there, if you let me. I know I’m not the kind of guy you’d normally go to for help. I know it, and if you decide you don’t want me by your side I…” his voice cracks then, and Loki remembers a night in his favorite café, a lifetime ago, when he realized he could still pick Tony’s face amongst a crowd while playing.

He remembers knowing it was the sign that something changed, without being able to put a name to it, but now he knows, and he knows. He knows that it doesn’t matter what Tony is going to say. He knows that it doesn’t matter that he wasn’t there for a month, not because he apologized for it, not because he had his reasons, but because he is here now and it is all that Loki wants of him. He knows all this just as clearly as he knows that he will doubt again, but he is sure one thing: Tony wants to be here.

For now, that is enough, and before Tony can complete his sentence, Loki catches his face in his hands and brings their foreheads together, and Tony falls silent.

“The last time we did this,” Loki says, “you ran away.”

“Yes,” Tony admits with shaky breath, “But I won’t run this time.”

“Why?” Let it be known that Loki is genetically unable to let things be simple.

“Because… because I was afraid then,” Tony says, and Loki feels his hands tremble where they settle against his hips. “And I still am.” Their eyes find each others’, and Loki feels like he understands the meaning of gazes locking together better, now. “But I want you. More than I want to feel safe.”

Loki didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until all the air goes out of him, soft and sweet like nothing else before and he thinks, I am going to marry this man. It’s crazy and unreasonable and weighed down with a thousand ifs and maybes and probably… but then again, when is love ever stable or simple or easy? Loki grins as he brushes a thumb against Tony’s smile, remembering how it ended when he made his vis-à-vis do the same thing a month –an eternity- ago.

Nobody runs this time.

Loki close his eyes, and when he leans in to kiss Tony’s lips, the other man meets him in the middle; and they are both softer than they are used to, careful not to scare the other away, and the kiss feels special, not because of any trick of tongue like it used to be back when Loki was in high school.

What makes it special is that for now, at least, Loki is absolutely convinced he will never want to kiss anyone else in his life.

The doubts will come later, he knows, but it doesn’t matter.

They’ll be ready for them.